First post of the year, and it's a quick one! Here's a pattern for the scarf I knitted for my friend@MiddlestSister.knucklesalad.com/njickis-braide…
THANK YOU to @knuckle_salad! You just helped me solve life long mystery. I'd call you; tell you about it, but... well, don't actually know U
*****
So all my life I wondered to myself, "What's the deal with Grandma; why did she hate me so much?" And I think I finally figured it out. There's tons of stuff I could get into, but I'm just going to touch on this... Grandma was probably jealous.
Also, she didn't know me. I remember taking family train trip to San Francisco when I was a tiny kid. While visiting, I remember learning Grandma's favorite cereal was Post Raisin Brand and she liked Tostems. She lived close to my uncle, but I have no idea where exactly Grandpa lived. That's where she lived before Grandpa died. He didn't know me either. It seems now they each sort of appeared out of nowhere all of a sudden. Then all of a sudden, Grandpa was dead. He was brought from who-knows-where to Los Angeles to be buried.
By the time my widowed Grandmother came to stay, my aunt had taught me to read the Sunday funnies in Spanish newspaper, how to appreciate the garden that surrounded us where we read the funnies, the importance of eating healthy, and how to keep my hands busy. By age five I knew how to embroider and crochet... thanks to Tia Isabel. Someone drove her over an hour to visit maybe every weekend. When she visited, I felt like I was the center of her world. She was mine... all mine. I loved talking with her. And, I loved the cases of fresh fruit she brought us, grown on her farm... oranges, peaches, nectarines and cantaloupe. Boxes bursting at the seams. She knew all my favorites.
So Grandma came to stay, and now there were loads of grandchildren to focus on. I don't know if she ever felt a strong connection with any of us kids after relocating to Southern California. She was probably lonely and sad and lost. Grandma didn't teach me anything and hardly ever spoke to me. She had a hard time sharing. She thought me unpleasant, spoiled and not worth her time of day. She did have my brave cousin Pearl who came with her from Northern California - Pearl was only 12 at the time. Grandma suffered from Alzheimer's in the end. She lived in apartment above ours when it started. I don't ever remember seeing her happy... truly happy.
Years and years later, I went up north to visit her where my Aunt Esperanza cared for her. The last time I saw her smile, she had no idea who I was. Late stage Alzhiemer's was about to overtake her world. During that visit, my cousin and I were trying to get her to smile for a photo. She didn't have a clue. Thinking quickly, I pointed up and said I saw a bird; asking that she smile for the bird. She beamed. I should have known that would do the trick. She loved birds - she kept finches and canaries way back when, after all.
Aside from her love of birds, I guess I didn't know Grandma either. Tia Isabel knew me... she was one of my biggest childhood influences. Grateful, she was there for me when Grandma could not.
So mystery solved... and I'm good with that.
Also, extremely grateful for @knuckle_salad.
I don't know how you're able to seek positive insight into the perspective of someone who was terrible to you. In the end, she doesn't really sound so bad, but the fact that you can see that is amazing and inspiring.
ReplyDeleteI think for the most part she silently endured... my sadness is that I think I'm doing the exact same thing. Insecure, perhaps tolerating union with someone who was not able to provide her with stability, however without the brutality she faced as an abused woman, married to an adulterer. There's a big, long drawn out story there from a time so foreign to us; my mom's is just as tragic. Difference was my mom's spirit refused (still at 83) to give into it. She overcame. I can't ignore that.
ReplyDelete